


Soon

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Love, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24340102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: Remix of Could you be the star in my sky? by Minne_My for The Worst Witch Remix 2020.Role Reversal.  Hackle.  Takes place during the S4 Finale.Hecate picked up the cup, ready to send it away to vanishment, when something caught her eye.  At the rim, where Ada had sipped, was a smudged pink lipstick print.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27
Collections: The Worst Witch Remix





	Soon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minne_My](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minne_My/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Could you be the star in my sky?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14766956) by [Minne_My](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minne_My/pseuds/Minne_My). 



> I had so much fun with this lipstick idea of Minne_My's, I hope you all enjoy! Please do go read the original fic as well.

Hecate looked out at the stars and sighed. They were so clear tonight, like they wanted to be seen by all. She couldn’t deny them that chance, taking them in like air. The stars shimmered, beckoning her hands forward, so brilliant she could almost touch them.

As her hand retracted back, limp, she couldn’t help feeling that they were somehow even further away than before. Or perhaps it wasn’t the fault of the stars, their shine filling the blackened sky. She was barely within herself; she couldn’t blame them for her own useless distance.

Hecate turned from the window in Ada’s office, going over the evening routine that kept her cogs moving even when her mind wanted nothing more than to crumble. Routine, order, rules. Those things mattered. Those were the support beams keeping the school from collapsing under her failings.

At 9:46 every evening, she always began preparing the tea for when Ada finished her daily call checking in on her mother. Tonight, that call had been left to Hecate, and unlike Ada’s giddy endless chattering, it had lasted a few curt minutes. She delivered the news, waited for Alma to acknowledge her words, and hung up before the stinging tears could fall.

Would it always be this way, now? Would it always be this _hard?_

Hecate didn’t want to give in to those fears. She had a routine, and she would follow it to the letter for as long as it took, and right now that routine said it was time for her evening tea with Ada.

Hecate hovered the teapot to pour and frowned. Ada’s cup was still in its saucer from the night before, and she recalled with a bittersweet ache how they had come to such an abrupt interruption.

_“The cards are in your hand, Hecate. Just say the word,” Ada said firmly, taking Hecate’s hand into her own._

_Hecate’s heart raced. She pulled it back, not wanting to get away from Ada, but needing air. She transferred from her seat by the stifling fire, tearing open the window and taking a gulp. There was a pale glow, the moon hidden behind a cloudy night._

_“Hecate? I didn’t mean to push you too quickly.” Ada’s voice was gentle and closer than expected._

_“Ada, you have been more than patient with me.”_

_“But you’re still not ready?” Ada guessed. Hecate knew she couldn’t help the way her voice fell just a little._

_‘I am trying. I want nothing more than to kiss you, but I do not know how. I wish I could let myself love you, but the door is jammed and I cannot magick it open.’ Those were the words on the tip of Hecate’s tongue, but none were spoken aloud. Instead, she said, “Soon,” as if the promise she’d made a thousand times before still carried any weight._

_But to Ada, it seemed to. Her smile brightened again, and she joined Hecate at the window. “It’s a shame we can’t see the stars tonight. It’s almost warm enough to take to the roof.”_

_Stars were important to them. Their first ever conversation had been about an upcoming meteor shower. Ada wanted desperately to watch it, but the skies looked to all the world like they preferred a storm instead. Hecate had insisted the rain wouldn’t come—that the skies would be clear and black as they streaked on by. It was her little secret from Ada that she’d done a weather swapping spell. It rained in Hecate’s bathroom for nearly a week, but she never complained, never revealed her somewhat extreme actions. She hadn’t known then why she felt so adamant about letting Ada, this witch she had only just met, see the stars._

_There was just something special about Ada’s smile as she took in that shower, quiet yet so loud in its brightness._

_It remained even now, searching for just a glimpse of a star beyond the clouds. And while Ada watched her favorite sight, Hecate turned to the side and quietly observed her own._

Hecate shook herself from the memory. They had soon after retired to bed, Hecate out of words and Ada out of distractions to try to make her feel better for her own emotional shortcomings.

Why was it so hard to say those three little words? _I love you_. She said them to Morgana every morning. Yet the weight they carried with Ada was undeniably heavier, and once she spoke them, they were permanent. There was no more time to flee, to change her mind, to let Ada figure out how much better she could do. 

Her gaze shifted from the teacup over to the delicate glass jar on Ada’s desk, holding her shattered remains, and she stifled a sob.

Leave it to her to wait until it was impossible. 

Hecate needed to hold herself together. She couldn’t collapse now. The students needed her. Ada needed her.

She took a shaky breath and looked around, needing something tangible for her mind. Her eyes settled back on the abandoned teacup. Ada hated to leave a mess. It was one of her most endearing qualities to Hecate. She would be troubled by the sight of the old cup sitting around, attracting ants with the massive amounts of sugar Ada dumped inside. It was something Hecate _could_ fix.

Hecate picked up the cup, ready to send it away to vanishment, when something caught her eye. At the rim, where Ada had sipped, was a smudged pink lipstick print.

With a wave of her hand, she cleaned out the inside of the cup, removing the remains of old milky tea. The lipstick remained behind, and she quickly whispered a spell to preserve it. The rosy printing of Ada’s lips was nearly complete, and now safe, she ran the tip of her finger across it.

It was so clear now. She should have let Ada kiss her. She should have let Ada kiss her years ago, if she was really honest with herself.

Almost hesitantly, Hecate sat in Ada’s preferred seat by the fire. It was a chilly night in the castle, but lighting the fire would brighten the room too much, and she preferred the moment of clarity provided by the sky. The stars seemed to only grow in their brilliance. Ada would have loved them.

She wrapped Ada’s white knitted throw around her shoulders, humming in contentment as its warmth encased her small frame. It smelled like vanilla and jasmine—just like Ada. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend the other woman was still there beside her.

“You may not get this back,” she teased, looking at the jar as if Ada might come back to life to claim her favored blanket. It remained still, stars sparkling off the smooth glass side.

She pulled the throw closer and went back to the teacup, pouring herself a generous cup of chamomile. She felt a bit like Goldilocks upon discovering the setting that was _just right_ , and of course, it would be Ada’s.

Because Ada was _just right_ in the only way another could be for Hecate.

She put her lips to Ada’s smudged print and took a sip, feeling like they took it together. She closed her eyes again, surrounded by the scents and coziness of Ada Cackle. She could almost trick her brain into believing the warm porcelain was more than a lingering image, that it was truly Ada’s lips finally kissing her own.

If only true love’s kiss was more than a thing of fairy tales, she’d have the key right then and there to restore her Ada.

Hecate’s eyes snapped open.

 _Love_.

She _loved_ Ada.

It filled her, consumed her like a rush of magick. She, Hecate Hardbroom, loved Ada Cackle. She could think it without her head spinning. There were no fears remaining, no reasons to deny herself what she’d wanted to say for so long.

She looked to the jar sitting silently on Ada’s desk.

It seemed almost cruel now to say it when Ada couldn’t even enjoy it, but maybe, just maybe, she could somehow hear what Hecate was saying.

“I love you, Ada,” she said brightly, tears welling in her eyes as the jar sat ever still. “I have loved you, I believe, from the moment I met you wandering the Cackle’s gardens. I wish I had been able to tell you sooner, but you always insisted you did not mind how long it took me to feel ready, so here we are. I _love_ you.”

Finally Hecate allowed those pesky tears to fall, allowed herself to love, and allowed herself—for one moment, sitting in Ada’s chair, drinking from Ada’s cup—to crumble.


End file.
